


Between Grief and Nothing

by badgerling



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerling/pseuds/badgerling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sha're's death, Daniel shows up at Jack's drunk and looking for reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Grief and Nothing

Daniel had been drinking. Scratch that. Daniel was drunk. Jack didn't need his friend to open his mouth and slur his words for Jack to get that. The untucked shirt, the glasses that were shoved carelessly in a pocket, and the way he slumped against the doorframe, that was really all the proof he needed. Jack thought about asking Daniel what was up, thought about trying to make a joke, but even he couldn't bring himself to do that.

He might not have known her well, but there was a certain amount of admiration in Jack for Sha're, for what she did both before and after being taken as a host, and they had only just come back from her funeral on Abydos. Jack didn't need an explanation for Daniel's state, but he also didn't have the words to express anything that would actually help. It was entirely likely that there wasn't anything that _could_ help.

He was still trying to think of the right words when Daniel looked up, his eyes rimmed in red, and said, "Jack? I can't breathe." That might have been an exaggeration brought on by too much alcohol, too much grief, and too little to lean on, but Jack reached out, pulling Daniel into his house and into his arms. The hand that came up to the back of Daniel's head pushed it down against his shoulder. He didn't have the words because he knew words never really helped at times like this.

He closed the door behind Daniel as he pulled the other man inside. Jack was careful not to take his hands off of Daniel, keeping one arm around his shoulders, half to support his drunk friend and half to provide the contact Jack knew he needed but wouldn't ask for. He didn't take him into the living room, diverting them instead to the kitchen. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, only taking his hands off Daniel once Daniel was actualy sitting down and once Jack had made sure he wasn't going to topple over.

Jack wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but he'd learned, years ago, to always keep some on hand. It wasn't much, it was basically just what was left over from the last time Daniel had had to borrow his guest room. He busied himself actually setting the coffee to brew, and once he'd flipped the pot on, Jack turned, resting back against the counter as he waited.

He kept his eyes on Daniel, though, just in case, just so he'd be able to rush forward and support his friend, just because he didn't know what else to do. Daniel was focused on the table, though, his hands folded neatly, eyes on some point that he probably wasn't really seeing. Jack focused on Daniel's breathing, labored and harsh, but he wasn't crying. Jack wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and before he could open his mouth to ask, the coffeemaker dinged.

Jack poured them both a cup, bringing Daniel's over to set it in front of him before returning to the cabinets for cream and sugar. He placed those next to Daniel's cup before taking a seat at the table. He didn't bother sitting across from Daniel, actually taking the seat next to him. At first, Daniel didn't move, didn't even try to make his coffee the way Daniel always fixed his coffee.

"I know it's not the fancy crap you usually make, but you need to drink it, Daniel." Jack's tone was soft, even if his words were harsh. Daniel flinched back from the sound, blinking and looking up at the cup of coffee then at Jack like he'd only just noticed both things at once. He reached out, his hands wrapping around the coffee cup, but he didn't drink from it. He just held it, like he wanted and needed the warmth more than anything else.

Jack was waiting for Daniel to say something, to maybe explain why he'd come all this way. Jack suspected it wasn't for coffee, and Daniel obviously didn't need his help in securing alcohol. When Daniel didn't say anything, but returned to staring blankly at the table with his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, Jack cleared his throat and said, "You need sleep, Daniel. Actual sleep, not telling me you're going to sleep then sitting up all night."

Daniel actually cut his eyes to Jack then back to the table before he said, "I'm not tired. Haven't been..." Ever since Sha're. Daniel didn't need to finish the sentence for Jack to understand. He knew his friend well enough, after all. Jack thought he should be better at this, better at being the strong supportive friend, but this was... even after everything he'd been through, even after the long, dark time after Charlie had... Jack shook his head hard, trying to dislodge that train of thought as he focused on Daniel.

Jack glanced around the kitchen for a moment before he rose to his feet. He didn't remain standing though, sliding into a crouch that made his knees ache in protest. "Daniel," he said, his voice considerably softer this time than before. He didn't say anything else, not right away, and when Daniel didn't even look over at him, Jack reached out, placing his fingers against Daniel's thigh. Maybe it was the warmth or the sudden pressure, but whatever it was, it made Daniel actually focus on Jack.

"Don't, Jack," Daniel finally said, cutting off anything else that Jack might have been two seconds from actually putting a voice to. He licked his lips and focused back on the coffee cup in his hands. "Please don't tell me that I need something else." Daniel's voice caught on the last syllable, and that was what made Jack slide his hand away. Jack knelt there in silence, staring up at Daniel, meeting blue eyes rimmed in red, and for a moment, it was Jack's breath that caught. He needed to help. He wanted to make things better, like always, make things the way they were when Daniel was only a little bit broken because his wife was missing and not all the way broken because she was dead.

Jack watched Daniel for a moment before rising to his feet. He reached out this time, one hand taking Daniel's coffee cup and sliding it out of his hand, the other taking Daniel's wrist as he helped his friend to his feet again. True to what Daniel wanted, Jack didn't say a word, not even when Daniel staggered a little from the sudden movement to his feet. Jack just steadied the other man and helped him through the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room, but it was there that Daniel pushed away from him.

He held his breath as Daniel practically stumbled over to the couch, and Jack only relaxed when Daniel made it onto the couch without breaking himself or any furniture. For a moment, Jack wasn't sure what to do. He stood on the other side of the coffee table, watching Daniel as he rested his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He still wasn't crying, and Jack thought that probably, _definitely_ , wasn't a good sign. Scratch that, he _knew_ it wasn't, and he exhaled softly, moving over to the couch and sitting down next to Daniel.

He knew he was probably too close. Daniel didn't need to be told what to do or be crowded, and for a second, Jack didn't move. He just stayed where he was, his thigh just barely touching Daniel's, his hands folded in his lap, and he almost regretted not grabbing a beer before sitting down, just so he could have something to hold, something to do with his hands. He relaxed, though, sinking into the couch cushions, as Daniel moved closer, seemingly seeking out the warmth of Jack.

Daniel moved until his head rested on Jack's shoulder, and only then did Jack move his arm, wrapping it around Daniel's shoulders and pulling him into a half hug. He wasn't thinking about what anyone on base would think if they saw this. There was only Daniel who needed him. That was the only thing that was important.

Jack didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if he could, not without giving advice Daniel neither needed nor wanted at the moment. He settled for rubbing his thumb lightly against Daniel's shoulder, all while making sure he was pulled as close as possible. Daniel's fingers curled in Jack's shirt hard, hard enough that even Jack could feel it, but he, for once, kept any kind of smart comment to himself about it.

"Does it get easier?" Jack really wasn't sure how long the two of them sat there, how long they were, for once, quiet and not arguing, but the sudden sound of Daniel's voice, even in a whisper, made Jack tense. Which only made Daniel pull away, looking at Jack like he was trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. All Jack could do was shake his head and not take his arm off of Daniel's shoulder. Eventually Daniel settled back down against him, and Jack took his time answering.

Mostly because his brain was telling him to lie, to make Daniel feel better, to tell him that, eventually, he'd forget and all would be right with the world. He swallowed slightly and shook his head before actually saying, also in a whisper, "Not really. You think it does. You think you're starting to forget, then some...random crap will happen and it's just like that day, all over again."

Daniel didn't say anything, but Jack felt him nod against his shoulder. He hated himself, just a little, for not being able to just tell one little white lie. He didn't trust himself to speak right then, afraid he'd starting spouting off more hard-earned wisdom Daniel didn't need, or worse, fall into easy cliches. Daniel didn't ask anything else, and Jack didn't say anything else, and eventually, he felt Daniel relax into him slowly, his breathing evening out.

Jack didn't move, half-afraid if he even breathed too hard Daniel would wake up, and despite what he said, Jack knew he needed this, needed to sleep since he hadn't, not since she'd died, not really. He even didn't protest when Daniel pressed closer, his fingers tightening in Jack's shirt again. He kept his attention focused on Daniel's breathing, waiting until it stayed even and slow before finally letting his own eyes drift closed.

Hours later, maybe, Jack wasn't sure, he was startled out of a very light sleep by a shout. It was still dark outside, and the only lights in the house came from the kitchen and the hall. At first, he couldn't pinpoint what had woken him up, maybe just a dream, but then the labored breathing next to him, the heavy weight of Daniel leaning against his side, filtered into Jack's conscious mind. He shook himself, trying to knock the sleep-induced fog from his head as he turned slightly.

He pulled Daniel against his chest, letting one arm stay wrapped around Daniel's shoulders while the other hand slid into his hair, cradling the back of his head. He kept Daniel wrapped in that hug, even as he whispered, "Danny." The only response he got was a slight tremor through Daniel's body as even in his sleep he wrapped his arms around Jack's waist. "Daniel." He raised his voice slightly, hoping he'd be able to startle him out of the nightmare without too much trauma. This time, Daniel's fingers on both hands twisted in Jack's shirt as he fought to hang on to something. "Jackson," he said, in a normal tone of voice.

That did it. Daniel took a shuddering breath, pulling back from Jack slightly, enough to actually look up at him. He blinked blearily through a combination of sleep and the fact that his glasses were still in the pocket of his shirt. "Jack?" he asked, his voice a groggy whisper. Jack could see he was trying to fall back on acting like everything was okay, but he wasn't quite able to pull it off. He blinked suddenly, looking around, obviously taking in the fact that Jack's arms were around him and for all intents and purposes, he was sitting in Jack's lap.

He pressed a hand against Jack's chest, more to push himself back than push Jack away. Jack let him slide back into a normal sitting position on the couch. He sniffled slightly, rubbing his eyes as he looked pointedly away.

"I should go," he said, finally, with a nod, but Daniel remained where he was. Not that Jack would have let him leave, not like this.

"No. You're not," he said. Jack pushed himself up to his feet, turning to look at Daniel for a moment in silence. "Come on," he said softly, offering his hand to Daniel. When Daniel stared at in with a slight look of confusion, Jack sighed, gesturing to the hallway. "Guest room. A real bed. I'll take you home in the morning, I promise." Jack was lying again. Daniel didn't need to be alone, not for awhile, and maybe once he was sober, he'd know that.

Daniel blinked at him, but didn't protest. He reached up, taking Jack's hand and letting him help him to his feet. Getting him into the guest room was actually easier than getting him to the couch. He didn't fight Jack's hold, for one, actually seeming to lean into him, and once they reached the door to the guest room, Jack was reluctant to let Daniel go. Obviously, he just didn't want Daniel being alone through another nightmare. Just in case. Obviously.

Daniel was still gripping Jack's shirt, and that was almost enough for Jack to decide that they could both sleep on the couch just fine, but then Daniel let him go and trudged toward the bed. There was no better way to phrase that. Exhaustion and loss made Daniel's shoulders sag, and Jack knew he wouldn't have trouble falling asleep. He stayed in the doorway until Daniel toed his shoes off, took his glasses carefully out of his pocket and paced them on the night stand. Jack stayed and watched until Daniel curled up in bed on top of the covers.

He nodded slightly, reaching and turning off the light. As he turned to leave, he heard Daniel, still speaking in a whisper, "Thank you." Jack didn't say anything in response, he simply nodded slightly. He pulled the door closed behind him as he stepped away, but he thought better of it, turning back to the door and pushing it open just a little. Just in case.

He glanced down the hall at his own room, but headed back to the living room instead. He turned one of his chairs toward the slightly open door and sat down. He'd hear Daniel in case of another nightmare. Or if he needed him. Or...anything, really. Jack would be there. That was the only thought he had as he settled back, his eyes focused on the door until he drifted off to sleep again.  


**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, MGM owns them.


End file.
